A Push in the Right Direction
by rhrshipper23
Summary: First story in a new DH inspired series. The war may be over but tensions still run high as the Weasleys prepare for their first Christmas after Voldemort's defeat.


It was the first Christmas without the ominous presence of Voldemort and the wizarding world was celebrating its freedom with great cheer and enthusiasm. Extravagant balls, festive parades and mass celebrations were well underway in and around London. But in the small town of Ottery St. Cathpole, a more subdued gathering was taking place.

For the Weasley family, the price of freedom came at a high cost. The loss of a son. The loss of friends. It was a celebration tempered with grief. It had been just over six months since the dark wizard was defeated, but the pain of their heartache was still fresh.

Arthur, Molly and Andromeda Tonks were talking quietly in the kitchen, while little Teddy amused himself on the floor nearby, gleefully banging away on Molly's cooking pans with his chubby little hands. Ron, Ginny and Harry were sitting in the living room nursing bottles of butterbeer waiting for the other guests to arrive.

Charlie was the first, arriving from Romania via the floo network. He grumbled about having to wait over an hour on the queue. Percy and Audrey were next, having taken the Knight Bus from their flat just outside of London. They walked in the front door, hand in hand and Molly was in tears when she noticed the engagement ring on Audrey's finger. They had all just finished congratulating the pair when Bill and Fleur arrived by port key. It was, by far, the safest way for pregnant witches to travel. She was due in early spring and Molly had already completed over a dozen jumpers for the newest member of the Weasley family. Even though Bill and Fleur decided to keep the gender of the baby a surprise until the birth, Molly knitted far more pink clothes than blue, self-assured that she'd be meeting a granddaughter in a short time.

"I'll go and get George," Ron offered, and bounded up the stairs. He found him in Bill's old room, sitting pensively at the edge of the bed, slouched over with his hands clasped loosely between his knees. After the battle of Hogwarts, George couldn't bear to remain in the flat that he shared with Fred over their shop. He returned to the Burrow, moving into Bill's old room. "George?"

George looked up in surprise. "Oh, hey Ron," he distractedly. "Everyone arrive?"

"Mostly," Ron answered, crossing the room and taking a seat next to his brother. "Only ones left are Hermione and her parents."

"Parents, eh?" George chuckled a bit. "Guess there won't be much snogging going on between you and Miss Granger this evening."

Ron shoved him playfully. "Shut it," he growled, despite his face heating with embarrassment. Hermione's parents always made Ron feel uncomfortable in their presence. Ever since Hermione restored their memories, the muggle dentists were wary of everything connected with magic. They were disappointed that Hermione had decided to finish out her schooling at Hogwarts instead of enrolling in a muggle school. At first Hermione attempted to keep the past year's events a secret from them. But the guilt of doing so wore on her until she finally broke down and told them the truth. They had been livid over the fact that their only child's life had been placed in such danger. And in the following weeks and months, their resentment over magic had grown. "Not one crack about it or I'll tell Mum that I caught you and Angelina Johnson going at it in the back room at the shop."

George looked horrified. "You wouldn't."

Ron nodded. "It's bad enough that they haven't let her out of their sight since she came home for the holiday. But they flat out refuse to let her stay here, even for one night."

"Well little brother, I think that's because they know that you're just waiting for them to leave so you can have your way with their daughter," George ribbed him.

"It's not like that," said Ron, blushing.

"Ohhhh, so _she_ has her way with _you_ then," George teased.

"No," mumbled Ron, flustered. "We're...er...taking things slow. I mean I've only had the opportunity to see her twice since she went back to school. And that was during Hogsmeade trips and well she didn't that it was appropriate to...er...'carry on', as she put it, in front of the younger students."

George roared in sudden laughter, upsetting his balance and almost falling off the bed. "C--Carry on," he said between uneven breaths. "Oh---oh my. Is poor Ickle Ronniekins feeling neglected by his girlfriend?"

"No!" Ron spluttered, stand up. "I promised her that I wouldn't push, and I intend to honor that." He sighed. "I just wish that she wasn't so shy in front of other people. Makes me kind of think that she's embarrassed to be seen with me or something."

"Don't be an idiot," said George. "You know full well that she cares for you. A lot of girls are shy about public displays of affection."

Ron thought back to their very first kiss and shook his head. Hermione hadn't been shy at all when she full out attacked him during the battle right in front of Harry. Why was she so reserved now? "I love her," he said suddenly.

The room lapsed into heavy silence.

I--I do," he continued, swallowing hard. "Hermione's it for me; I've known that for a long time now."

"I believe you," George assured him, his tone just as serious. "I figured as much that day when you belched slugs in her defense when Malfoy called her a Mudblood."

"Back then?" Ron asked, incredulously.

"Oh yeah," George chuckled. "Besides the two of you row like an old married couple. It's really only a matter of time."

"I'd ask her in a heartbeat," Ron admitted. "But I won't. Not until she finishes school. And not until I have some money saved away in my vault at Gringotts."

George nodded. "You sure that you want to leave the shop and go into the Auror program? They certainly won't pay as much as Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes can."

"I know," replied Ron. "And I've learned a lot about business working with you these past few months. But the shop is in a good place now and I just know that becoming an Auror is what I'm meant to do."

"I understand," said George. "And well, having you defer on entering training right away to help out has meant more to me than you can ever imagine. I don't think I would have been able to continue after..."

"It's what brothers do," Ron interrupted. Talking about Fred's death was still hard, especially for George. "Besides with Charlie leaving Romania for a spell, there's a chance that you can convince him to work at the new store in Hogsmeade."

"Oh yes, 'the great Charlie Weasley' can regale customers with his adventures wrangling fierce, deadly dragons," said George, a smile beginning to emerge on his face. "It's just what we need to lure...er, I mean _invite_, more potential buyers inside. He'll be a hit!"

"Tsk, tsk," Ron tutted. "You'd take advantage of your older brother like that and use him to draw a crowd?"

"It's what brothers do," George quipped happily. He stood, soberly slightly as the noise from the the living room drifted up to where they were. "Guess it's time to go down now."

Ron sighed noiselessly. For the past week or so, George had holed himself up in his room straight away after work. Christmas celebrations of the past were always punctuated by lively holiday gags orchestrated by the twins. The upcoming holiday had put a damper on everybody's spirit, but none more so than George's. By mutual agreement, the Weasleys had decided to forgo present exchanges, in return for promising to all gather together at the Burrow. Usually Bill or Charlie or both weren't able to make it home due to work related obligations. But as promised, everybody made the effort to share this difficult day together. And now that the day had arrived, all Ron could feel for his once favorite holiday was a sense of disappointment and false cheer. "Yeah," Ron replied. "Don't want to make Mum mad. I heard she poured in a bit too much brandy in the Christmas pudding."

"Well let's make sure she takes an extra helping then," George said jovially, his mood lifting a bit. "Come on."

By the time the boys navigated the twisting staircase down to the first floor, they were just in time to greet the Grangers who were busy wiping excess floo powder from their clothes. Hermione looked up just as they entered the room, and quickly navigated through the sea of redheads before latching onto the one that made her heart flutter madly at just a quick glance.

"What's all this?" Ron's low voice buzzed softly in her ear as he enthusiastically returned the crushing hug.

"Missed you," she murmured into his trademark maroon Weasley jumper, tightening her hold.

Ron gave her one last answering squeeze before pulling away slightly. Hermione had once told him that absence made the heart grow fonder, a saying that he really didn't understand until she returned to Hogwarts to finish her seventh year. Owling one another every week was one thing, but actually being able to hold her without the prying eyes of curious professors or bratty fourth years was an entirely different, and more importantly, better experience.

He could smell the remaining floo powder on her clothes, as well as a lightly citrusy scent from her perfume. He wondered if it was the same bottle that he had given her for Christmas three years prior. Their eyes met and Ron unconsciously drifted closer, lowering his head, so close that their lips were almost touching.

Closer still.

His eyes fluttered shut, as did Hermione's and he went to close the distance between them.

A slight cough caught his immediate attention, however, and Ron's eyes snapped open to see Hermione's father standing just over his daughter's shoulder; an indifferent, almost cold look, being sent his way. He quickly pulled away a respectful distance, awkwardly patting Hermione on her shoulder as he did so and extended a hand in greeting. "Happy Christmas, Mr. Granger."

"Ron." Mr Granger shook the offered hand. "Happy Christmas."

"I--I hope that your trip through the floo network was without problems." Ron could sense the tension in the older man and hoped that a little conversation would go a long way. Hermione seemed to appreciate the polite gesture as she gently squeezed his arm.

"Well there was a rather long wait on the queue," he replied gruffly. "And I don't suppose it's the most clean way to travel." To prove his point, he ran his hand briskly across the sleeve of his suit jacket and frowned at the bit of dust that flew off.

"Guess not," Ron agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets. He smiled hesitantly as Mrs. Granger came to stand next to her husband. "Happy Christmas, Mrs. Granger."

"Happy Christmas, Ron." Mrs. Granger looked from Hermione to Ron and smiled. "Hermione has spoken quite often of you since her return from school."

"Indeed," said Mr. Granger, and Ron had the distinct feeling that Hermione's father wasn't very happy about that fact.

"Thank you for inviting us to dinner," said Mrs. Granger politely. "We were aware of Hermione's wish to spend the holiday here and her father and I really did wish to keep the family together."

"It's no trouble at all," Ron replied. "We're used to a full house here at the Burrow."

"So I see," said Mr. Granger, taking a look around the crowded room.

"Er...if you'll come with me, I'll be happy to introduce you to everyone," Ron offered, steering them in the direction of his parents and Andromeda, smiling slightly to himself as he felt Hermione's hand resting warmly against his lower back.

Dinner was a noisy affair, between the clatter of dinnerware as it was passed around and the numerous, and simultaneous, conversations erupting along the long kitchen table. Ron and Hermione spent more time trading glances across the table than eating, a fact that the Grangers apparently picked up on. Mrs. Granger had prodded her daughter no less than three times, inquiring if she were feeling well. And Mr. Granger looked completely gobsmacked when the dirty dishes magically rose from the table and piled into the sink, where a dishrag was waiting to rinse and dry them.

After the meal, the adults remained in the kitchen to engage in quiet conversation while the younger generation slipped out into the living room for a more boisterous celebration. Percy and Audrey stayed in the kitchen as they were drawn into a conversation regarding various summer wedding ideas. Bill and Fleur were nestled contently on one of the sofas, Bill's hand rubbing gentle circles on her rounded belly. Charlie sat on the cushioned armchair, nursing a butterbeer and holding a conversation about the dangers of grooming Norwegian Ridgebacks with Harry and Ginny, who were seated together on the plush rug in front of the fire.

George watched as Ron led Hermione to the unoccupied sofa across the room, bending down to kiss her before she could sit. Hermione looked nervously towards the kitchen door, and Ron wound up kissing her cheek instead of her lips as her head turned away. He pulled back, somewhat frustrated, and George heard her whisper an apology. Ron merely shrugged in reply and gestured for her to sit. Instead she stood up and kissed the tip of his nose, prompting a reluctant smile to emerge on his face and informed him that she would be back in a moment. George noted the almost forlorn way Ron's eyes followed the object of his affection as she left in the direction of the bathroom. Shaking his head, and idea came to him, and he quickly made his way up the stairs before anyone could notice that he was missing.

A few minutes later, George returned to the living room carrying a rather poorly wrapped box and handed it to his confused younger brother.

"What's this?" Ron asked as he tentatively gave the box a shake.

"A gift," George replied. "Go on and open it."

"But we agreed on no gifts," Ron complained.

"Yes, yes I know," answered George, waving his hand dismissively. "Consider it a token of thanks for all your help at the shop." When Ron still looked ready to argue, he placed Ron's other hand on top of the box and tore a tiny piece of the wrapping paper off. "See Ickle Ronniekins, this is how you get the paper off."

"Very funny," mumbled Ron, as he hesitantly removed the paper. He looked up and noticed that he had gained everyone else's attention. He opened the box, reached inside, and pulled out a hat. It was red in color and the words 'Happy Christmas' were written across the brim. "Er...it's a hat."

"Well spotted," George said dryly, garnering a few laughs from the onlookers. "Go on. Put it on."

Ron looked at it suspiciously, turning it around in his hands. It wouldn't be the first time that one of his brothers played a joke at his expense. "What's it do?"

"Do?" George chuckled. "It keeps your head warm, you idiot."

"No what does it _do?"_ Ron stressed the word, as if that alone would bring clarity to the question. "Surely it's some trick that's going to turn my hair blue or make me sprout horns or something equally revolting."

"Would I do that to you?" George asked with false cheer, throwing Charlie a dark look when he snorted loudly into his butterbeer bottle. "No comments from the peanut gallery."

"I don't know," Ron insisted, holding the hat away from his body.

George sighed, his good mood vanishing completely. "It was Fred's last idea before he..." His words trailed off and he shrugged. "We were working on a prototype, and after he...er, died...it was the first thing I started to work on when I went back to the shop. I only finished it a few weeks ago."

Ron looked positively distraught and attempted to press the hat back into his brother's hands. "I...I can't take this." He swallowed hard. "You should have it then."

"Nonsense," George told him. "I told you that I wanted you to have it, and I do." He gave Ron a mischievous grin. "It does _do_ something, but I promise that it's nothing that you won't like."

With a resolute nod of his head and a quick glance at the others, Ron placed the hat onto his head. There was complete silence as everyone anxiously waited for something to happen. A long moment passed and Ron was about to suggest that there might be a few kinks to still work out, when the room suddenly burst out into laughter. Ron quickly lifted his head to see what was so funny, but his view was blocked by the wide brim. "What?!" he cried. When no one answered, he quickly removed the hat, disappointed that there wasn't anything new to find. As an afterthought he ran his hand over his head to make sure everything there was as it should be. "I don't understand?"

"Put it on again," Harry called from the floor.

Ron shrugged and donned the hat, catching the furtive looks that his brothers were giving each other. "What's it doing?"

"Brilliant George," Bill said with a smile. "And it only 'works' when the person's wearing it."

"So they have no idea," Ginny chimed in.

"No idea for--oh my!" A voice said from the doorway. All heads turned as Hermione entered the room, her hand clapped over her mouth.

"What!" Ron demanded. "Why is everyone looking at me funny? What's the hat doing?"

"Ah Hermione, dear, just the witch to help poor Ronnie out," George announced as he pulled her fully into the room.

"Help me out? What are you on about?" Ron was starting to get annoyed. George had said that the hat wouldn't do anything that he wouldn't like. Perhaps George thought that having his family laugh at him was fun. "Would someone please tell me what this blasted hat does!"

"Go on, Hermione," Bill encouraged. "Tradition is tradition."

Hermione looked around the room at all the smiling faces and felt herself blush wildly at what they expected her to do.

"You're not afraid are you," Charlie sniggered from behind her.

"C-course not," she replied stiffly. She turned back toward Ron who was looking back at her uncertainly.

"Hermione?"

Letting out a long breath, Hermione squared her shoulders and crossed over to where her boyfriend sat, bewildered and confused. He started to rise, but she pressed her hands against his shoulders and forced him back into the cushions. He looked up in surprise and his eyes widened to an almost comical extent as she promptly bent down and kissed him full on the lips. She started to ease back but Ron surged forward, sliding his arms around her back and pulling her forward and onto his lap.

The sounds in the room faded as Ron deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth insistently against Hermione's, teasing a moan from her. One hand moved to tangle in her hair, getting lost in the bushy chestnut curls while the other kept her flush against his body. However after a minute, a sense of propriety hit Ron unexpectedly and he broke the kiss, breathing heavily and blushing to the roots of his hair when he realized that they had an audience. "'Mione--wha--I don't--why did--who--"

"I do believe you've kissed him senseless," Harry quipped with a smile.

Hermione buried her face into the side of his neck for a long moment before pulling back to share an embarrassed grin. "The hat," she explain. "I...er...had to."

"What?"

Sighing, Hermione removed the hat and placed it on her own head. "See for yourself."

Ron stared in awe as a sprig of mistletoe materialized over his girlfriend's head. "Oh," he said, nodding in understanding. He looked over Hermione's shoulder to where George was staring back at him expectantly. "Brilliant, George!" Then he turned back to Hermione. "You know what this means, don't you?" he asked her.

"What?"

"This," Ron explained, reaching for her once again. There was no hesitation in the kiss he gave her. Instead he poured every ounce of feeling into it, clutching at her tightly. Hermione plunged her fingers into his shaggy hair and pulled him even closer. Ron realized that there was no better feeling in the world than holding Hermione in his arms and sharing their affection for one another in this highly pleasant fashion.

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER GET OFF THAT BOY THIS INSTANT!"

Hermione scrambled off of Ron's lap, nearly falling to the floor in her haste and turned to see her father standing in the doorway. He cast an insidious glare in her direction and she would have taken an automatic step backwards had Ron not been standing there with his hand pressed against her back reassuringly. "I can explain..."

"There's nothing to explain," Mr. Granger shouted, the noise alerting the adults in the kitchen. "It's quite obvious what you were doing. We raised you better than that, Hermione."

"Now wait a minute," Ron started to object, but Mr. Granger overrode him.

"And you," he yelled, pointing at the redhead. "What self respected gentleman would give a lady a gift like_ that_." Hermione gasped and quickly removed the magical hat.

Mrs. Granger pushed her way into the room. "What's going on?"

"We're leaving," Mr. Granger announced.

"No," Hermione cried, turning and throwing herself into Ron's arms.

"Mr. Granger, there's been a misunderstanding," George said in his brother's behalf. "The hat is mine. I gave it to Ron as a gift."

"Misunderstanding or not, what I saw when I entered this room was crystal clear," Mr. Granger replied gruffly. He turned towards Molly and Arthur. "I apologize for disrupting your evening, but I believe that we'd be better suited to spend the remainder of the holiday at our own home."

"Of course," Molly uttered softly, glancing around the room at a loss. "I'm sorry that you feel the need to leave and I apologize for anything my family may have done to make you uncomfortable."

Mrs. Granger was quick to speak. "Nonsense," she replied, holding Molly's hand firmly in her own. "You've been such a gracious host." She quickly joined her husband near the fireplace. "Hermione, dear?"

"I don't want to go," Hermione whispered into Ron's sweater.

Ron ignored kissed the top of her head, then addressed the rest of the room. "Give us a minute?" Without waiting for a response, Ron pulled Hermione into the now empty kitchen and with a wave of his wand cast a silencing spell for good measure. "I'm sorry for all this?"

"Don't apologize," Hermione insisted. "They're the ones who are acting unreasonable. I can't believe they expect me to just leave."

"I know, love," Ron replied, running his hands down her arms in a comforting manner. "But it's Christmas and as much as I want you here with me, I think it's best that you go home with them."

"What?" Hermione looked up at him in shock. "You don't want..."

"Hold it," he said, interrupting her. "Don't put words in my mouth. There's nothing more that I want than to have you stay. I just don't want you to get into an even bigger row with your parents over this." He sighed. "They're still upset over Australia and the memory charms and in a way they have a right to be. That said, it must have been hard for them to accept our invitation to dinner tonight. But they were doing it because they love you."

"Ron..."

"No let me finish," he replied, holding up is hand. "I shouldn't have kissed you like that in front of everyone. I know that you're uncomfortable with that sort of thing."

"No, I'm sorry." She pulled him into a hug. "I'm just not used to cavorting around like that. It's not like I've had much experience in the matter, not like you had with Lavender."

Ron squeezed her gently. "I can tell you this, Hermione Granger. My experience with Lavender Brown is limited to some rather awkward snogs, but that's it. No more than what you've had with dear old Vicky."

"Viktor?" Hermione asked with surprise. "I've never kissed Viktor. I've told you countless times that Viktor and I are friends and nothing more."

"You've never snogged Viktor?" Ron asked, shocked.

"He kissed my hand at the ball," she replied. "Like any proper gentleman would. And then when he left to go back to Bulgaria, he kissed my cheek. He invited me to visit him that summer, but I declined and wound up going to Grimmauld Place with you and your family."

"Blimey," Ron whispered._'Harry's snogged Cho Chang! 'And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got as much experience as a twelve-year-old!'_

"Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione asked anxiously, watching as his face noticeably paled.

Hermione hadn't snogged Viktor Krum? "I'll tell you later," Ron said distractedly.

"But..." Hermione protested.

"Really, it's a long story," he replied, physically shaking the rampant thoughts from his head to concentrate on the current situation. "I promise to tell you another time. Look, why don't you floo into Diagon Alley tomorrow and come visit me at the shop for a bit before returning to Hogwarts. You can use the fireplace in the office to get to Hogsmeade."

"I really should take the Hogwarts' Express back."

"C'mon, just this once," he asked. "Who knows when I'll get to see you next. Business has been picking up at the shop and I don't know for sure if I'll be able to meet you in Hogsmeade for the next visit."

"Okay," she agreed. "But just this once. I don't want anyone to think that I'm shirking my responsibilities."

Ron ruffled her hair affectionately. "That's my Head Girl."

"Ron," she groused, slapping at his hands. Sighing, she reached up and kissed him gently on the lips. "I should go."

"Mhmm," Ron agreed as he kissed her again. "Go on. I'll stay here." He steered her toward the kitchen door. "I don't want to upset your father again and I'm liable to snog you senseless if you come near me."

Turning, Hermione gave him a wink. "Is that a threat?"

Ron smiled cheekily at her. "Not a threat, love. It's a promise." She walked out of the room and he heard muffled voiced through the door as she said her goodbyes. Rubbing his face wearily, he crossed over to the counter and opened a bottle of butterbeer. He looked up as the door open, and George poked his head in. He hesitated for a moment before entering the room fully, closing the door behind him.

"I'm really sorry about that," he said earnestly.

"It's okay," Ron replied, handing his brother an unopened bottle. "We shouldn't have gotten carried away like that."

"Still...I feel really bad that Hermione had to leave."

Ron shrugged. "Things aren't the greatest with her parents right now. She's attending Hogwarts despite their objections and she told them that she's planning on a career in the wizarding world. I think they've been hoping that she'll take an interest in dentistry and work with them."

"Yeah but don't they understand that she's nineteen?" George asked. "She's an adult capable of making her own decisions."

"It doesn't matter how old Hermione is," came a voice from the doorway," because she'll always be a little girl in their eyes." Molly stepped into the room, followed by Arthur and Charlie.

"Sorry about everything Mum," said Ron.

"Don't apologize," Molly told him. "Bill and Charlie explained everything to us." She took a seat at the table. "A few years ago I might have agreed with them. But after witnessing first hand the tragedy that came out of this war, I can't possibly try to deny any of you a chance at happiness." She cleared her throat. "And _expressing _that happiness." She shook her finger at Ron. "But you'll be good to partake in such actions privately next time." Ron lowered his head in heated embarrassment as his brothers chuckled at his expense. When he raised his head again, his mum was looking at him, her expression serious and resigned. "Their fears and concerns are very real and I believe that they feel they're slowly losing her to this world."

"They said that?" asked Ron.

"They didn't have to," Molly answered. "It's what I would feel if I were in their place. It'd be the same as if one of my own children were born a squib. They'd be resigned to life in the muggle world, a place that I'm wholly unfamiliar with and I'd always be worried about how they were coping."

"Hermione's a brilliant witch," Ron argued. "They're barmy to think that she can't get along here."

"They know she can," Arthur interjected. "And that's what worries them. Every parent has to face the fact that their children will one day need to go off on their own and find their own way in life. Hermione is an only child and I gather that they're having a harder time than most accepting this."

"And on top of that," Molly added, "she's chosen a life that they cannot comprehend. All I'm saying Ron, is that you have to try to be patient with them." Ron nodded hesitantly and Molly smiled wide. "Good. Now that we've had our Christmas excitement for this year, why don't we call everyone back in here for some dessert." Charlie and Bill left the kitchen to bring in the others, while George and Arthur helped Molly place the dessert dishes on the table. George held up the Christmas pudding and gave Ron an exaggerated wink. _Perhaps there's more excitement to come,_ Ron thought with a small smile, as he spied his mum sneaking a spiked spoonful.

Next year things would be different, Ron decided, as everyone sat back down at the table and started to pass around the dishes. He glanced over at the three empty seats across from him, then smiled gratefully as Harry, Ginny and George sat down.

They all lifted their glasses as Arthur stood and made a toast to a brighter New Year. His family would recover from their losses and hopefully be able to put the war behind them. They'd look forward into the future with hope. There was a wedding and a new baby to look forward to.

They would all weather the storm.

Together.

Ron smiled. He'd make sure of it.


End file.
